


Not What He Expected

by tortitude



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: BDSM, Be gentle, Choking, Coitus Interruptus, M/M, My First Fanfic, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Switching, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-12 12:38:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15340032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tortitude/pseuds/tortitude
Summary: Cardinal Copia, as part of his training in order to assume eventual leadership of the clergy, conducts a summoning ritual to come face-to-face with none other than the dark master he serves. What appears before him is not exactly what he had been expecting, and he realizes he has a lot to learn about the realities of whom he serves, and his master is quick to give him a thorough lesson.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually relatively new to the fandom (been a fan for a few months now) and I hope you'll forgive anything that goes against band lore that I might not be as familiar with as some other long-time fans. It's meant to be a loose mix of band lore and my own novel lore, leaning more towards the novel lore.
> 
> Dominic is the main character of a novel I have had in progress for several years and has yet to be rewritten and polished enough for publishing. The things revealed about him in this fic are completely canon as far as the novel goes, so if I EVER manage to get the thing published and you happen to find a copy of it in your hands one day, I apologize for certain spoilers that will be revealed here.
> 
> This is also my first fanfic. I had been pondering for a while how Dominic would fit into the Ghost universe; certain other thoughts crossed my mind and a plot bit me and wouldn't let go, so I have chosen to inflict it upon the world. Especially you thirsty fuckers, you. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

Dominic Giovanni Ambrosi simply wished to be left alone in his misery. The wound was still raw... what he had been forced to do, all for the sake of compassion and love. His heart had shattered when the deed was done... when she was dead by his hand. He was doomed to an eternity of this, of either loneliness or perpetual loss, and the loss hurt too much. And it WOULD be an eternity, for to take the final plunge into death at long last, after nearly four hundred years of existence, would mean that the burden that had found its way to him would pass to another, and he would not wish such a burden on anyone else when he could protect even a single other soul from being forced to deal with it. It was hard enough for an immortal, and one already familiar with magic and the supernatural. An ordinary mortal would go just as mad from it as the one from whom he’d taken the burden from.

Burden? Or was it a curse? No, he refused to consider himself twice-cursed. This was a choice, and while he wasn’t exactly content with it, he was one of the precious few in existence that could manage it. And as for the side he had chosen? Darkness and light were two sides of the same coin; one cannot exist without the other’s presence being known in some fashion. He had chosen the darkness for the same reasons he had accepted the burden in the first place; he did not wish another to be shouldered with it. He would suffer so that others would not, for he had brought enough suffering upon humanity as it were.

He didn’t know exactly how he found himself strolling down the sidewalk at five in the afternoon in full cassock. He was no longer a legitimate priest, but he still found comfort in the familiar black robes he had worn every day for so long. He sensed something was on the horizon, and whether he was searching for it or running from it, he himself could not say. But the urge to walk, to have something to DO rather than sit alone in silence with the cold remains of his heart, was unbearable. And so he walked, mercifully ignored by the ones he passed, even without the use of magic to make himself unnoticed.

And then it hit him.

He stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, causing the person behind him to collide with him. “Oh... sorry, Father,” the stranger muttered before moving on. But Dominic didn’t hear him. He clutched his hand to his chest, trying to interpret what it was he was feeling. His breath came rapidly, and as the nearby church bells began to chime 5:00, he knew with absolute certainty that he needed to get out of public view before something happened to him. He pushed his way through a crowd of teenagers coming out of a nearby store, looking strained and not caring at all whether anyone saw him. He had barely made his way around the corner into the back alley when he collapsed to his knees and cried out, releasing himself to whatever force had happened upon him.

His knees hit not hard concrete, but something soft. He fell forward and his hands clutched... fur? His breath was still ragged but he inhaled sharply as he opened his eyes... funny, he hadn’t remembered closing them. Four hundred years of magic, and some things continued to surprise him, as he realized his surroundings were completely different. And it was nighttime.

And someone was standing in front of him. And Dominic himself was kneeling on a fur rug in front of a fire, in a dark room surrounded by incense, with cryptic symbols chalked on the marble floor in a circle surrounding him.

The man before him was silent, for the moment. Dominic rose to his full height, smoothing out his robes and brushing his fingers through his long dark hair, before fixing his piercing gray stare upon the stranger in the room. He looked every bit the severe Catholic priest he was trying to be, and his gaze didn’t waver even when he realized that he was gazing upon a cardinal, though they did flash in anger.

He wasn’t a cardinal as Dominic had come to know them in recent times; no, this one wore an altered variation on the robes worn by the cardinals back when he had first been cursed. In fact, for a moment he saw not the man before him, but one Cardinal Falco, the one who had brought him in for arrest and torture so long ago, and the first life he had taken after the curse had been forced upon him.

And then this particular cardinal had frowned and looked down to the ancient book in front of him, flipping through the pages and muttering under his breath before looking back up at Dominic. He appeared at least twice as old as Dominic did physically, and he had odd-colored eyes surrounded by dark circles that made them appear sunken in. His upper lip was similarly dark, and crowned by a thin moustache. He continued flipping through pages and muttering until Dominic cleared his throat, at which point he nearly knocked the book off the rickety music stand that was supporting it. He clutched at the top of the book to steady it and stared straight at Dominic.

“Err... pardon me, sir... you’re not quite what I was expecting,” he said in Italian.

It had been a while since Dominic had heard his native tongue spoken, and it almost caught him off guard. He spoke slowly, but the words came easily to him, rolling off his tongue with a four-hundred-year-old accent no longer heard in modern day, even in the most remote regions of Italy.

“Then what were you expecting?” His gaze never left the cardinal’s eyes.

There was a long pause while the cardinal attempted to compose himself. He licked at his own lips nervously, and somewhere in the otherwise silent room, the squeak of a rat could be heard. “Err, well... not to put too fine a point on it, but uhhh... Satan?” His voice went up at the end, as if uncertain, and he could no longer maintain Dominic’s intense eye contact, cutting his glance away after a few moments of letting that uncertainty hang in the air.

“Ah,” Dominic said, breaking the silence at last, having processed what he had just been told and putting it together with what had just happened to him. He stepped forward, out of the circle, causing the nervous cardinal to step backwards and stumble slightly. “Well.” His shoes clicked on the marble as he continued forward a few more steps, stopping mere feet away from the man in red. “I daresay you found him.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cardinal is skeptical, and Dominic is offended.

It was not often that Dominic felt as if he towered over someone, but the cardinal was a bit shorter than him, magnifying the looming effect of his close proximity to the man. His last words made the cardinal’s gaze snap back up to his face, and he let out a nervous laugh. He tried to take another step back but had managed to back himself against a wall covered in shelves loaded with books; instead he pressed himself against it and attempted to become one with the wall. Dominic shifted his weight onto his heels to give him another inch or so of room, and it appeared to be enough to allow the other cleric to breathe a bit easier.

He supposed it was as effective an entrance as any on his first day embracing his new role.

Dominic looked around, still trying to piece together exactly what had happened and why he was here. “Where am I?” he asked, taking in the darkness of the room and noting the time. Just past midnight. A bit cliché, almost amusingly so, evidently attempting to summon the devil himself to a gloomy chamber at the stroke of midnight. And summoned by a cardinal, no less. He returned his gaze to the cardinal in question, who shrank back again and stared up at him, wide-eyed. “And why am I here?” he added.

“M-my study... a-and you’re here b-because...” The man had an occasional stutter that amplified his nervousness. He appeared to be utterly terrified that whatever he had done had succeeded, albeit not exactly how he had expected. “I-it’s meant to be part of my training... my lord.” With that he even went so far as to offer a little bow to the man in black. “For assuming leadership in the Church.”

Dominic blinked, taken aback by this, and stepped back a few paces. He furrowed his brow and looked at the cardinal skeptically, folding his arms across his chest. “The Church?” He spoke after a beat, holding up one hand. “Forgive me, but regardless of anything the Catholic church has been involved with in the past, I highly doubt they would stoop to anything as dark and... ungodly as what you have apparently accomplished here tonight. Especially for someone who is supposedly in line for leadership.” He frowned, and examined his companion in the room carefully. What he spoke of was not how leadership was normally determined in the Church, and paired with the cardinal’s somewhat anachronistic robes, complete with an oddly-shaped biretta, Dominic sensed there was a miscommunication. This was verified by the cardinal’s chuckle and the words that followed.

“Oh, no, no, not THAT church.” There was a derisive note in his voice, as if the very idea of being associated with the Catholic church was utterly ridiculous. “There are... similarities. But our church’s purpose is the worship and glorification of... well...” He gestured towards Dominic, his hand moving in an up-and-down motion to indicate Dominic himself. “You, I suppose. If what you say is true. But of course, if it were true, you would certainly be aware of it... my lord.” This time the honorific was uttered with a hint of jest behind it, as the cardinal had apparently decided not to believe Dominic.

The former priest’s eyes flashed in anger. Since taking up this mantle, his temper seemed to bubble closer to the surface than ever before, a drastic change to the mild-mannered and cool-headed persona he had kept for the better part of four centuries. “I may be many things, but I am not a liar!” he hissed.

“My lord,” he said, again with a hint of mockery, “if you are who you claim to be, you are, in fact, the Prince of Lies.”

The blow came before Dominic realized it was happening. He stepped forward again and his arm lashed out of its own accord, the back of his hand connecting sharply with the still-unnamed cardinal’s right cheek. The cardinal whimpered and cowered back against the bookshelves, holding a palm to his quickly-reddening cheek. “B-begging your pardon, my lord,” and this time the words were sincere, “I meant no disrespect...”

“Now who’s the liar?” Dominic reached out and grabbed a fistful of red fabric, pulling the cardinal forward slightly and then shoving him roughly against the shelves. “You people. Pompous, uptight, manipulative assholes.” He so rarely swore, but what did it matter anymore? It felt right, in the moment. “You’re EXACTLY the same as the Catholics, aren’t you? You think you know better than anyone else how the world works, and you have NO IDEA about the true nature of the forces with which you work.” He emphasized his point with another shove against the shelves, causing the cardinal to wince in pain.

“I-I meant no offense!” he stammered out. “I beg your forgiveness, and wish only to serve you, Master. If I have erred in my understanding of your nature and the nature of this church, or what it should be, it would be my honor for you to set me on the correct path. After all, that is why you were summoned. For my training, and education... insight into what it is we stand for, and who it is we serve. For what you can teach me, and what discipline you can offer.”

The words came out in a tumble, triggering something within that Dominic that he had never felt before, and that he couldn’t quite place. He studied the cardinal carefully for a few moments before speaking, still clutching a fistful of red robes. “Your name,” he said, and more to his own surprise than anything, it came out as a command.

“C-Copia. Cardinal Copia.” A scuffling noise and a squeak emanated from the shadows of the bookshelves, and a rat emerged and perched on Copia’s shoulder, staring Dominic down. It was this that made him finally loosen his grip somewhat on the cardinal’s robes.

“Cardinal Copia.” He nodded to the rat. “Friend of yours?” he asked, almost casually.

“You could say that,” the cardinal replied, with the first hint of a smile since Dominic had first laid eyes on him. He, too, glanced at the rat on his shoulder, which turned to him, sniffed, and seemed satisfied that its master was not in any real imminent danger before squeaking once again and scurrying back into the shadows. Copia looked back up to Dominic, meeting his eyes. “Is there, uh... something more appropriate I should call you, my lord? A name you prefer, perhaps?”

Dominic leaned in closer. His left hand rested somewhere above Copia’s right shoulder, and his right hand released the grip on the cardinal’s robes fully. He extended a finger and trailed it down Copia’s jaw, from his ear to his chin. “Oh, I think you’re doing just fine with ‘my lord’ and ‘Master.’”

At this, Copia let out an almost inaudible whimper.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cardinal has questions, and asks the wrong one. Dominic has a revelation...two, actually.

The soft whimper seemed to bring Dominic to his senses somewhat. He gave a quick shake of his head, as if to clear it, and stepped back, letting his hand fall from where his finger had come to rest on the cleft in the cardinal’s chin. He wasn’t quite sure what had just come over him, and he needed a moment to process it. He clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head up slightly, giving the effect of looking down his nose at Copia. “Well, you have me here. I’m certain you have questions. Ask, and we’ll go from there.”

Copia’s odd eyes looked a bit unfocused for a moment; he appeared to remain pinned to the wall by some unseen force, though Dominic was certain he wasn’t using his mind tricks to hold him there. Eventually, he seemed to snap out of it and focus on the priest before him. “I do have a question. Clearly I am unaware of… your true nature. Can you enlighten me as to how you came to be?” He was quite eloquent when he wasn’t quaking in his shoes.

Dominic regarded the cardinal imperiously before letting out a soft sigh, his hands falling to his sides again. “I suppose that’s fair. Provided that whatever is said and done within these four walls remains an absolute secret, even to your superiors. Will you promise me that?”

Copia’s eyes lit up from within the darkness encircling them. “Oh, of course, of course!” He even went so far as to reach out and physically take Dominic’s hand in both of his before falling to his knees before him and bowing his head. He touched his forehead to the knuckles of the hand he had captured, and then pressed his lips to that same spot. “I swear it, Master.”

There was power in that oath, Dominic could sense it, and he knew that, at least in this, the cardinal would be true to his word. His fingertips turned over in the cardinal’s grasp to help him up and he beckoned him to rise with his other hand. Copia did so, obediently, only using Dominic’s hand to pull himself up a little before releasing it.

“I will try to make this brief and simple, so as not to bore you with a long, drawn-out story. I was a child during the Italian plague in the early 1600s. The disease took my mother and father, and it very nearly took me. I survived under the care of the Church… the Roman Catholic Church, that is, and the priesthood was a natural fit for me. As I ministered, I befriended a small pagan community in the countryside. They showed me the truth and beauty of magic, and informed me of the Church’s attempts to usurp it for their own purposes, to use it to perform ‘miracles’ and cement their hold on their followers, as well as to draw more in. I was unaware of how closely I was being watched, and one day I was followed and the community was laid to waste by the Church’s private army, save for myself and the few that might be able to deliver information to the Church. I was tortured--” He paused here and absentmindedly smoothed his hands over the front of his cassock, tracing the scars that covered the skin beneath. “Tortured, nearly to the point of death as my wounds festered. And then I was given the choice of life or death. I chose life, at the hands of a magical experiment based on what little information they had gathered. That experiment healed my wounds, and also made me immortal, at the cost of the energy of those around me. I am, to put it simply, a psychic vampire. And one day, quite recently in fact, I stumbled into a poor tortured soul with a tremendous burden who begged for death, and in taking his life I took on his burden. Only I am more well-equipped to shoulder it. And so I did. How he obtained it, I do not know. But here I am, and I have chosen to accept my fate rather than fight it.” He shrugged lightly. “You will forgive me if I don’t have some divine revelation for you. To be perfectly honest, I am learning as I go. This,” and he gestured to himself, indicating the dark divine essence that had resided within him for the better part of the past year, “didn’t exactly come with an instruction manual.”

Cardinal Copia had been listening to the tale intently, even leaning forward slightly, until Dominic fell silent. He deflated a bit in his spot. “Oh… that’s not quite as… interesting as I had hoped.” His eyes widened as Dominic’s narrowed in his direction, and he straightened up. “But you ARE him, yes?”

That temper was rising again, and Dominic physically swallowed, as if to squash it down. “I am. And I’m SO sorry my life story doesn’t meet up to your expectations.” He spat out nearly every syllable of the last word, evidently not doing a very good job of controlling himself. The cardinal only seemed slightly fazed, his mouth open as if he wanted to speak, but wasn’t sure how his words would be received. “Another question? Ask.”

“More of a… request, per se. But if you are him, can you… you know…” His shoulders twitched in a questioning shrug. “...prove it?”

“Prove it?” There was no controlling his anger now. He rushed forward in a flash, a hand around the cardinal’s throat, pinning him once again to the shelves. “You performed a Satanic summoning ritual, and I am what arrived. Is that not all the proof you need? Furthermore, why should I prove myself to you? My role is to maintain the darker side of balance in this world, not perform parlor tricks to sate your curiosity. I am not here to serve you, Your Eminence.” His fingers gave just the tiniest squeeze to the clean-shaven throat beneath them. Copia gasped and his breathing quickened, but Dominic did not smell fear in the air; his rage at the moment, however, prevented him from discerning exactly what it was he was sensing. “There is a part of my tale I left out.” He leaned in very close to Copia’s face, their noses almost touching. “The first life I took after the Church’s botched magic cursed me… was the cardinal that had me tortured in the first place. I took his life… just like this.”

Dominic meant to reach out with that part of himself he hated, to pull just hard enough on the cardinal’s life energy so that he could feel it, and know that he was facing something powerful indeed. Yet every time he tried to entangle his energy with Copia’s, he couldn’t seem to take hold of him. He narrowed his eyes in concentration, attempting to probe the cardinal’s mind, but found… nothing.

“You’re immune,” he whispered, his breath washing over the cardinal’s face. Dominic’s expression had changed from anger to awe as he gazed at him. He looked down, only to realize that Copia’s hands were clutching the front of his robes, his knuckles white with the effort. Funny, he would have expected him to be fighting him off. With his temper ebbing, he got a sudden sense of the emotion that was hanging in the air, the one that wasn’t fear, and now with his head a bit clearer, he could finally identify it.

It was pure, unbridled lust.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Copia finds a way to show his devotion to his master.

_ That _ caught Dominic off-guard. His gaze flitted back and forth between the fists clawing at his cassock and the wild, heated gaze of the cardinal.  _ Oh. Oops.  _ He hadn’t exactly meant to touch upon… whatever this was he had unleashed. At least he didn’t  _ think _ he had meant to; the line between what he sensed Copia was feeling and what he was feeling himself was becoming a bit blurred, as it always did when he opened the empathic part of himself up to another. His power may have been unable to penetrate the cardinal’s mind, but he couldn’t help but sense what was rolling off of the other man in such waves.

To his credit, Dominic recovered from his surprise quickly. “Well, well, well, Your Eminence,” he murmured, his voice more husky and… seductive, perhaps, than the commanding tone it had taken on moments before. “Seems I might have touched upon something I didn’t expect. You appear to... enjoy this, or am I incorrect?” With that, his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly against the throat still underneath his grasp.

Copia gasped and his body stiffened, his fingers clutching even tighter at Dominic’s cassock. The fresh wave of lust crashed over Dominic and threatened to knock him off balance.

“I believe I asked you a question,” Dominic said, calmly. “Answer me. I’m barely touching you; I know you are still capable of speech.”

“Yes,” Copia hissed.

Dominic tutted softly. Whatever was happening here, he was going with it, and he would be lying if he said that playing this little role wasn’t having some sort of effect on him. “Perhaps I’m a little hard of hearing in my old age; I didn’t hear you address me correctly.”

The cardinal’s eyes snapped from the hard, lustful edge they had taken into a somewhat softer, more submissive gaze. “Yes, my Lord.”

“That’s better.” Dominic’s voice was soothing, having taken on something of a purr. His grip around Copia’s neck loosened and he stroked his thumb upward against his jawline. This was a bit of a new situation for him, in more ways than one. The few lovers he had taken in the past had all been women, though that had simply been the luck of the draw, as far as Dominic was concerned; priest or no, divine avatar or no, he was still human at the core with very human needs, and he had felt some form of attraction to a variety of people over the course of his existence. And while he wasn’t exactly  _ attracted _ to the man before him, at least not yet, this game they were playing was intriguing, and he had to admit to himself that he was curious as to where it was going to lead.

Another one of those quiet whimpers emanated from the cardinal’s throat, one that Dominic felt under his fingertips more than he heard. “And… what of you, my Lord?” Copia croaked out.

“What of me? You mean, do I enjoy this?” Dominic appeared to consider the question for a moment before leaning closer, his lips nearly brushing against the cardinal’s ear. “Perhaps if you release that death grip you have on my robes, you could figure that much out for yourself.”

Dominic felt the tension release from his robes as the other man loosened his grip at last. He felt hands smoothing out the wrinkles they had made in his robes. They didn’t stop there, though they were a bit hesitant as they traveled lower, until one finally traced the length of a suspicious bulge beneath the black cassock, eliciting a soft, guttural groan from the former priest that reverberated in the cardinal’s ear.

Copia removed his hand almost as soon as he had touched Dominic so intimately and spoke slowly. “Well… as they say… what now? Do you want me on my knees before you, to worship you with my mouth? Would you have me at your mercy laid over on my desk? Or would you prefer to punish me in the way that, perhaps, you’ve always fantasized you could have punished that other cardinal? You could take your time and really draw it out…” He let the idea linger in the air for Dominic’s consideration.

“All intriguing suggestions…” Dominic breathed. He stepped back and observed him, weighing his options carefully. “I believe… I want you on your knees.” His own words surprised him; he wasn’t accustomed to being this forward.

The corner of Copia’s mouth twitched. “Of course, my Lord… your every wish is my command.”

Dominic was about to return the ghost of a smile when the cardinal surprised him once again. He suddenly found Copia’s fists clenching his robes again, only this time he was whirled around until  _ he _ was the one pressed against the wall, with enough force to knock a couple of precariously-placed books to the ground with a  _ thud _ , loud enough to echo through the room and likely beyond. Dominic didn’t even have time to register what was happening and slip back into character before the cardinal was pulling the black cassock roughly upwards, gaining access to the waistband of the black pants he wore beneath. He made quick work of belt, button, and zipper, dropping to his knees before the former priest. It was all Dominic could do to brace himself before he felt himself engulfed in the cardinal’s warm, hungry mouth.

“Oh, holy shit,” he swore, his hands clutching blindly at the shelves to his side to keep his knees from buckling with the sensation. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, pressing it painfully against the sharp edge of a shelf, and gave in fully to the pleasure he was feeling. Never before had he jumped so blindly into sex, and never before with a man; furthermore, there were things to be enjoyed from both sides of this scenario they had established. He felt overcome with the intensity of so many new experiences and knew this wouldn’t take long; his breathing was already growing shallow and ragged. The clergyman kneeling before him seemed to sense this, gripping Dominic’s hips to exert some sort of control over him from his position as he quickened his pace.

A loud knock at the door quickly put an end to all that, however.

Dominic’s mind wasn’t fully capable of coherent thought, as close as he had been. “ _ Merda _ ,” he swore again as Copia scrambled to his feet, letting the hem of his cassock fall towards the ground. The door wasn’t visible from this part of the room, thankfully, and he had time to secure his pants and compose himself while Copia greeted his visitor. Dominic was grateful for the dim room that would help to conceal his flushed face as he smoothed his robes and took a deep breath before stepping out and making his presence known.

In the doorway stood a frail but still somehow imposing figure, an elderly man in lavish papal robes complete with mitre, albeit with symbols and icons of a far darker nature than what Dominic was accustomed to. He had the guise of a skull upon his face, and he was flanked by a nun on either side; these appeared to be caretakers of a sort, gently supporting him by either arm. The cardinal bowed deeply before him. “Your Excellency… to what do I owe the honor of such a late visit?”

“You know full well what brings me here.” He spoke with a quiet voice that still carried weight; his accent was as old as Dominic’s, if not older. “I wished to check on your progress. Have you attempted the ritual you found yet? I am eager to learn if it was successful; to have direct access to the One we serve would be a boon for our organization.”

“Ah… well, I’m still working out some of the finer points…” He shot a glance at Dominic, drawing the elderly clergyman’s attention towards the former priest, upon whom he looked with disdain.

“Apologies. Who is this?”

Copia followed his gaze. “Oh! This is, uh…” A flicker of panic crossed his face as he realized he did not know how to introduce his guest.

Dominic cleared his throat. “Father Dominic Ambrosi,” he said smoothly, covering up any hesitation on the cardinal’s part. He strode forward and knelt briefly before rising. He wasn’t sure what the protocol was for meeting the apparent leader of this church, but kneeling seemed a safe bet; at least he didn’t seem offended, merely annoyed.

“Y-yes, Dominic…” His name sounded strange, being spoke so familiarly by the one calling him “Master” and “my Lord” moments before. “Might I introduce you to our current leader, His Dark Excellency Papa Emeritus Nihil.”

“You have no business here, Christian,” Nihil said the moment Copia had stopped talking. It was a line Dominic had heard before.

“I am Christian no longer,” Dominic replied.

“Yet you still wear the trappings.”

“These trappings instill trust,” the former priest countered, wishing to give an answer without revealing his “true” identity to the leader.

“I see.” Nihil’s gaze seemed to pierce Dominic, who was beginning to get a sense of where the power in this place stemmed from. “Perhaps this is a thing that can be discussed another time. What is to be discussed now is between the cardinal and I, and does not concern you. Why you are even here, I do not know. Cardinal Copia knows better; he should not have brought an outsider in. You do not belong here until you have proven yourself. Leave.”

“Of course, Your Excellency.” He turned towards Copia before excusing himself. “As for you… we do have business that remains unfinished.” Was that a blush creeping across the cardinal’s face. “Another time, with fewer interruptions.” Copia began to stammer out some form of response, but Dominic turned back towards Nihil, bowing deeply before him before leaving.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain bit of unfinished business gets resolved... eventually.

This time, when the summoning happened, Dominic was prepared. He recognized the uneasiness he had felt the first time and was able to ensure he was alone before he was whisked away to the building from which he’d been banished days before. The transition was easier, as well, and did not bring him crashing to his knees this time.

He arrived in the cardinal’s study with little more than a breeze in an otherwise still room to announce his presence. He had elected to remain in Italy, finagling his way into a luxurious hotel room that the staff somehow managed to forget he hadn’t paid for; such was the way of his mental magic. He had also taken the opportunity to feed, performing his rather unique variation upon last rites that resulted in the peaceful passing of a few of the most infirm patients at a nearby hospital. This was the main reason for keeping his clerical trappings; however, today, he was dressed a bit less formally than his first meeting with the cardinal. He wore jeans and a black button-up shirt, though without the Roman collar; this felt strange against his neck, and he often found himself reaching up to adjust it before remembering what was different.

Now that he was paying attention, he could feel a sharp change in… something, the air perhaps, or maybe it was in his mind, the moment he had fully crossed the ethereal threshold into Copia’s chambers. He had lived with a certain amount of mental noise ever since the day he was cursed, which had only gotten worse when he had assumed his Satanic mantle. For centuries he was always aware on some level of the presence of people, even if the nearest one was miles away; often he was even aware of their thoughts and dreams, even without prying into them on purpose.

Here, there was… silence. Blissful silence.

The room looked the same, except it was sundown as opposed to the dead of night. Again, he stood before the cardinal, only this time it was an expectant face he looked upon and not a confused one. He was dressed differently as well; this time he wore a fitted black suit with long, dramatically-pointed tails, as if he had just returned from a dinner engagement. Copia closed the book and rushed forward to kneel before Dominic. “Welcome back, my Lord,” he uttered as he reached for Dominic’s hand with his own gloved ones as if to kiss them. Dominic, however, stepped back and slipped his hand out of the cardinal’s grasp, holding it up to still him. It worked; Copia froze at the gesture, looking up at Dominic with almost a hurt expression. “Have I offended you, Master?”

“Please. May we dispense with the ‘my Lord’ and ‘Master’ today? Or, at least, for the time being?” He looked down at Copia. “No, you have not offended. I simply…” He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting out a deep sigh. “I simply wish to enjoy the silence for a moment.” He relaxed and opened his mental shields that he normally kept closed; it never completely silenced the mental and psychic noise he was constantly bombarded with, but it dulled it significantly, and even in his sleep he could never let his guard down fully. But here… he didn’t know if it was this room or if it had something to do with Copia himself, but here he found true silence, and the mental shock of it was almost enough to bring him to his knees, had he not been making such a strong effort to retain his composure. Another heavy sigh and his shoulders slumped, taking in the silence before opening his eyes once again and leveling a gaze at Copia. “And why have you brought me here this time?”

Copia blinked and looked up at Dominic with a confused expression as he rose to his feet. “Err… we had unfinished business, as you said.” A bit of a flush crossed his face, as it had when they had last spoken, but he continued to look at Dominic with emboldened mismatched eyes.

“That?  _ That _ is why you summoned me?” Dominic asked incredulously. Not that he wasn’t flattered, or even against the idea; in fact, he had scarcely thought of anything else other than their last heated but aborted encounter. To his great frustration, release had also eluded him since that night; part of him wondered if perhaps he hadn’t truly tried hard enough, wanting to save that moment for when they would be reunited to pick up where they had left off. Or perhaps it was a spell of the cardinal’s; Dominic was certain he had some command of magic at his disposal. Either way, he felt a new type of hunger gnawing at him from the inside that he had never felt before, now that he was here. He felt as if for the first time he understood why some people completely lost their minds when it came to sex, being barely in control of his own facilities at the memory of the cardinal’s hungry mouth on him.

“You requested fewer interruptions. I have ensured that there will be none.” He chuckled to himself. “Really, though, you’d think they’d learn not to leave the herbalist in charge of the wine at dinner. Everyone is sleeping quite soundly, and will be until well into the morning.”

“Poisoning your own people and superiors for such a reason, too? Have you no shame?” Dominic’s voice was only mildly chiding, even playful.

“Not much, no,” Copia responded, just as mildly, emphasizing the point with a shrug, as if he didn’t seem to be bothered by his lack of shame.

“I’m not quite  _ that _ easy, you understand,” Dominic said. He fully intended on making the cardinal work for it, though how long Dominic’s willpower would hold out, he could not easily say.

“Yes, yes, of course I understand, my Lord.” He shook his head quickly. “Forgive me. Should I call you… Dominic, then?” He seemed uncertain at using such familiarity.

“Of course. It is my name, after all.”

He nodded. “Very well,” he said, and in a surprising gesture, took Dominic’s hands gently in his gloved ones. “I have a thought,” he said as he guided him to a room off to the side of the main study. “You look as if you haven’t truly relaxed in quite a while. Allow me to offer my assistance.” 

As they entered the small side room, Dominic realized it was his bedchamber, and he couldn’t suppress a roll of his eyes. “You’re not exactly subtle, are you?” Still, he allowed himself to be settled on the edge of the bed in a seated position, unwilling to admit exactly how hard his heart was pounding with anticipation of what might follow.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re implying.” The cardinal did his best to look innocent as he ran a gloved finger lightly along Dominic’s jaw, with only a ghost of a smirk as he knelt before him. He tugged the gloves off and cast them aside for better dexterity as he unlaced Dominic’s boots, stripping him of both boots and socks quickly before kneading the balls of the feet and the heels for a few moments, one by one.

Others might have laughed, had Dominic admitted that having his feet bare in front of someone made him feel almost as exposed as if he were fully undressed. The brief foot massage was carried out in silence and was appreciated for what it was; Dominic had actually never indulged in a massage of any sort, nor had a lover offered. He was usually the one doting on the other and to be on the receiving end of such attention was a pleasant change, indeed. He closed his eyes and again embraced the silence, mental and otherwise, and only opened them when he felt Copia’s hands at his shirt, plucking a button apart. Instinctively he placed a hand over the one at his chest, stopping him.

“Have I crossed a line?”

A glance to the cardinal’s face revealed concern etched there. Dominic shook his head. “No. I simply… never told you the details surrounding my torture. I have… scars. Extensive scars. I felt you should know before you saw. It’s gruesome if you’re not prepared.”

“Is that a touch of vanity I hear?” Copia chided. “Isn’t pride a sin where you’re from?”

“And have you forgotten so soon what I am now?”

“Not for one moment, my Lord. But I acknowledge the humanity that is still a part of you.”

They regarded each other for a few moments, and then Dominic let his hand fall back to his side with an almost imperceptible nod. The cardinal worked his way down button-by-button and only revealed the skin underneath when he was free to push the black shirt off Dominic’s shoulders, revealing the extent of the scarring all at once. He hissed and muttered a few choice profanities in Italian, running both hands across the scars that completely covered the former priest’s torso. “May I ask for specifics?”

“The front is from branding. Iron just hot enough to fuse with the flesh and to rip it off. The back is from whipping.” He leaned forward and twisted just enough for Copia to catch a glimpse of the lash marks crisscrossing his back before settling back down. “Infection made it all the worse. They dislocated my shoulder on the rack as well, but obviously that didn’t leave a scar.”

Copia traced the outlines of the scars on Dominic’s front several times; the last time, when his hands reached Dominic’s waist, he leaned forward and began planting soft, lingering kisses that started at the waist and trailed their way upward across the ridges of scars. Dominic hadn’t been expecting that; the first one made his breath catch in his throat and caused a nearly instantaneous reaction a bit further south. He only got harder as the cardinal got nearer to his mouth, so that by the time Copia was truly within kissing range he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, grabbing two fistfuls of hair, and crushing his lips against the other man’s with a little ‘mmph’ sound, kissing him fully and deeply and already trying to drag him down onto the bed with him.

_ Jesus fucking Christ, what has this man done to me? _ he thought, before he realized that he really didn’t care and all that he needed out of life for the immediate foreseeable future was this man in this bed with him in some form or fashion. The cardinal, for his part, followed his master’s lead willingly, his mouth never leaving Dominic’s as they settled onto the bed together. Dominic was insistent, quite out of his usual character when it came to the bedroom, his legs vicelike around surprisingly muscular thighs and pulling the cardinal’s body tight against his own. Copia obliged, at least for a time, allowing Dominic to set the pace as he fumbled for the buttons on the cardinal’s tight-fitting suit in an effort to level the playing field and have him shirtless as well… even more naked than that, if he had his way.

Dominic had never been the type for frenzy and passion and wondered how much he had been missing out on; perhaps he never would have first sworn the vows he had eventually broken anyway. He kept one hand buried in the cardinal’s hair while the other pushed back his shirt and blindly explored bare chest, raking fingertips through sparse chest hair as he ground his hips and groin against the other man’s. Christ, they were making out like kids on prom night, and at the pace they were going he was going to regret not having a change of clothes at hand.

He uttered a groan of frustration when the cardinal broke the kiss and propped himself up out of reach of Dominic, despite his best attempts to keep his legs wrapped around those thighs. Dominic flopped his head back onto the bed, his long black hair pooling around him and his hands pressed against his forehead before clasping them over his head. “Fuck,” he muttered in between gasps of air; his usual self-restraint regarding profanity thrown completely out the window where the cardinal was concerned, it seemed.

Copia loomed over him with a self-satisfied smirk. “Ah, but this was not my intention for this encounter,” he said silkily, tracing Dominic’s jawline once again, almost lovingly. “Not like this, anyway.”

“Please…” Dominic’s voice was quiet, and it cracked just a little with a hint of a whine.

“Please? Please what?” Copia leaned closer, shifting his weight so that one of his hands gripped both of Dominic’s wrists, pinning them in place above his head.

“Please, I need…” His voice trailed off before he could finish; he couldn’t believe he had been reduced to talking like this, to begging.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you; what is it you need so badly?” The cardinal’s voice was teasing; he knew perfectly well what it was Dominic needed, but he was going to make him say it.

“I need to come.” He struggled a bit in the other man’s grip, eliciting a throaty, sadistic chuckle from him.

“Oh, I’m sure you do. You seem to have gotten yourself quite worked up there.” He said this as if he himself wasn’t equally as worked up; Dominic had certainly felt the strain in the cardinal’s pants moments before. Copia extended a finger on the hand that wasn’t keeping Dominic’s wrists pinned down and laid it across his lips in a shushing gesture. “Be patient; calm yourself. Deep breaths.”

Dominic struggled a bit more; he could have freed himself had he really tried, but the loss of control and the submission to the cardinal above him sparked something else within him that he hadn’t realized he’d wanted. Suddenly he had a flashback to a certain fateful day four centuries before; for a few moments he was no longer on a soft bed, but on a wood and metal rack with his arms stretched painfully above him. He began to struggle more and hyperventilate, and it took a few moments for him to remember where he was and who he was with. He noticed the tension around his wrists was gone and Copia looked down on him with concern. “Are you alright?”

Dominic took several deep breaths, then nodded. He made no effort to move from his position.

“Then are we good to continue?” When Dominic nodded again, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss just to the side of the former priest’s lips. “Now...don’t move.” It wasn’t a command, but a request, and for the moment at least, Dominic obliged.

His hands were just a few steps ahead of his mouth as he worked his way down Dominic’s scarred torso to his waist, tugging his belt free and undoing his jeans. Dominic had lost most of his erection during his flashback, but the anticipation of the cardinal’s mouth on him once again had brought it back with a painful vengeance. Whatever tricks Copia tried on him, there would have to be a resolution this time. His back arched as he was enveloped once again in the cardinal’s warm mouth, and he let out another one of those satisfied groans as he had several days ago. It was different this time; rather than devouring him, Copia was teasing him, drawing out the encounter as long as possible.

Fuck… more teasing. It didn’t take long for Dominic to be whipped back into the frenzy he had been in before his minor panic attack. The cardinal’s hands roamed as he licked and sucked, memorizing the scars on Dominic’s thin frame and the shape of his hips, slipping one hand underneath to apply the slightest bit of pressure to the opening it found there; this was a sensation that surprised the former priest, but was far from unpleasant. He found himself writhing in place to find a bit more pressure, but it eluded him as the other man remained in control. And, of course, just as Dominic felt as if he were once again approaching the pinnacle, Copia pulled away.

“FUCK!” he exclaimed, and this time Dominic propped himself up on his elbows and glared at the cardinal, who was looking up at him with the most self-satisfied smirk Dominic had ever seen on someone. That was it. He leapt forward, gripping him by the shoulders and turning him around so that suddenly it was  _ Copia _ who was pinned to the bed beneath him. In the process somehow he kicked off his jeans, the first of the pair to find themselves fully naked. He froze for only a moment, realizing that he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. He had a general idea, of course, as he could follow the cardinal’s lead, but there was still a level of uncertainty about what to do.

Then he spotted it. In the process of turning the tables on the cardinal, he had produced a bottle of lubricant from wherever it had been stashed. Dominic narrowed his eyes at him. “You’ve orchestrated this from the beginning, haven’t you?” He was met with a shrug and another smirk, which, coupled with his current frantic state, made his temper rise quickly. He snatched the bottle out of the cardinal’s hand and then set about roughly divesting him of his shoes, socks, and pants as he seethed. “You know, you’re going to get exactly what it is you think you want so badly.”

He sat back and observed the now-nude cardinal splayed out before him. Between the ridiculously mesmerizing thighs and the ever-so-slightly rounded belly that often came with age stood evidence that the interaction had affected him just as strongly as it had Dominic. Dominic quickly smeared half the bottle of lubricant onto his fingertips and then dove forward, not even thinking about what he was doing before he had his first taste of cock in his mouth. His initial intention of making the cardinal work for it had been abandoned; now he would simply take what it was he demanded, especially as now it appeared this has been Copia’s end game all along. When he applied the same pressure to the cardinal’s asshole, he was surprised to find his fingers practically drawn in as he introduced them one at a time. Either he had been preparing for this, or he was just that ready, or perhaps a combination of the two. He felt fingertips raking through his hair and pressure on the back of his head as the other man’s hips jerked in a quickening haphazard rhythm beneath him. The pressure on the back of his head was enough to keep him in place, but not enough to choke him; when the cardinal came he had no choice but to swallow everything. Not that he wouldn’t have, even if he hadn’t been held in place. New experiences for him after four centuries were rare indeed, and this was certainly one of them; he wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on any part of it.

His hand was still slick from the overapplication of lubricant earlier, and he reached down to his own length to make use of the excess before leaning forward, positioning himself right at the entrance. His balls were throbbing from the repeated close calls throughout not only this night, but the several before it, and he knew that this would all be over in a matter of seconds once he started. This time, however, it was him that paused, wondering if he was even ready for the encounter to be over; and then he had very little choice in the matter as he felt legs wrapped around his own, pulling him in insistently.

One… two… three… ten strokes and it was done. A wave of release, more intense than anything he’d ever known before, overcame him as he flooded the other man’s bowels. He collapsed against him, fingernails digging into the backs of the cardinal’s shoulders hard enough to draw blood, marking him and claiming him as his as wave after wave of his orgasm consumed him. Exhausted and spent and covered in sweat, he rolled over to his side, and caught only a glimpse of Copia’s heaving chest before falling fast asleep.


End file.
